Dandelion seeds
You eventually became a star
Ugh... '' ((Beomgyu
Beomgyu opened his eyes, his voice hoarse and reeling from the afterglow of last night. He wanted to sleep longer, but he felt like he couldn't.
Ha... I'm dying. '' ((Beomgyu
As if to tell him how ignorantly he had eaten yesterday, his stomach started to hurt strangely and his head started to hurt so much that it felt like it was going to split open. Beomgyu raised his hand and covered his head. But soon his arm started to hurt, and covering his head didn't make it any better, so he lowered his hand from his head again.
Ugh.... '' ((Beomgyu
He barely managed to get out of bed, and, with a zombie-like voice, he staggered into the living room. Unconsciously, he passed through the living room and reached the kitchen, where he paused for a moment.
Oh, that's right. '' ((Beomgyu
Now, as if he'd remembered why he'd unconsciously come to the kitchen, he stood in front of the water purifier with a cup. Still half-asleep, his eyes blank and unfocused, he poured water.
Even though he heard the sound of water filling the cup, he didn't look at it. It was only after the water overflowed and reached his hand that he finally realized what was happening and stopped.
“Oh, it’s overflowing.” ((Beomgyu
He muttered absentmindedly and shook the water off his hands. Then he looked down at the floor where the water had flowed. I don't know, it'll dry. Let it be. With such an irresponsible mind, Beomgyu roughly wiped the water that had splashed on his feet on the hem of his pants. He stepped into a puddle again and it was useless, but he didn't care and took a sip of water.
“Ah, I should have poured it with cold water.” ((Beomgyu
But it was too much of a hassle to pour out the water and pour new ones. Having become the ultimate nerd who had grown tired of everything in the world, Bungyu leaned back on the sofa.
“Should I just sleep more?” ((Beomgyu
I felt drowsy, becoming one with the sofa, and slowly opened and closed my eyes, repeating the cycle. I didn't feel like I slept soundly, but somehow it felt like a lot of time had passed.
Strangely, I didn't want to look at my phone, but all the clocks in the house had stopped, so I had no choice but to turn it on.
There were five missed calls.
“Why did he call so many times?” ((Beomgyu
Beomgyu grumbled and called Obin. It wasn't because he was out. He wanted to return the money. He didn't want to break up with me after taking the money. I'm the one who's dumping Obin. It's not me who's dumping him. Beomgyu rationalized it like this.
But Obin didn't answer the phone. One missed call, then another, then three. It was only a matter of time before Obin wouldn't answer, and Beomgyu's rationalizations would soon turn into anxiety.
Did you collapse at home? At the hospital? Overloaded? No, not overloaded, what was it... Ah... In pain. '' ((Beomgyu
All sorts of negative thoughts began to creep in. No matter how hard I tried to stop them, the negative cycle continued to roll on like clockwork, slowly, and with a loud, banging noise.
“Why aren’t you accepting it?” ((Beomgyu
He felt uneasy. He just felt uneasy for no reason. Unable to bear the anxiety, Beomgyu unconsciously bit his fingernails. He kept muttering, "Please take it," like a spell, to Jeong Oh-bin.
Of course, Beomgyu might not have reacted in a fit of anger like he did yesterday, but Obin thought that Beomgyu wasn't as petty as he was yesterday.
“Should I go to your house?” ((Beomgyu
He got dressed to go to Obin's house, worried he might be lying around the house, like one of his negative thoughts. No, he wasn't. He was just overthinking it again. Beomgyu headed back to the sofa and called Obin.
After about 30 minutes of just hearing the ringtone, Beomgyu figured there must have been about 20 missed calls on Obin's phone. Thinking he'd give up if he didn't get this many, he checked how many times he'd called. There were exactly 10.
“I don’t know, Jeong Oh-bin… I’ll call you later.” ((Beomgyu
Beomgyu positively thought that the reason Obin wasn't answering his phone was because she was writing a novel or in a meeting about publishing.
She might not call Beomgyu again, but Beomgyu still believed that Obin hadn't blocked him and wouldn't have ignored his 10 missed calls. Obin was that kind of kid.
“Ha… I suddenly got the wind blowing. I should have just accepted it then instead of being proud…” ((Beomgyu
Beomgyu choked out his last words. He took a deep breath. "What's that pride?" he thought, and exhaled again. His last words were filled with regret. While he was holding back, he regretted holding back just one more time, and right then and there, the voicemail Obin had sent him the night before came over.
Hello, Choi Beom-gyu. You're not answering your phone.
“Jung Oh-bin?”
Beomgyu turned his head and glanced at his phone. Then he tilted his head and slowly reached for it.
You must have been very busy. Well... you must be busy too. How were your days without me? Was it better than you thought? I believe so.
Beginning with a light greeting, Obin told Beomgyu about his day without him. While Obin was clearly speaking brightly, Beomgyu felt that it was dark, cold, and lonely.
“Idiot. Then why don’t you just dive in?” ((Beomgyu
Beomgyu curled up as low as he could, closed his eyes, and buried his face in his knees. A sly smile spread across his face, seemingly returning to the Obin he knew.
The dandelion bloomed so beautifully. That reminded me of you. Of course, I was the first to disappear, but I hope this dandelion I saw grows bigger, becomes a seed, and flies to you. I want it to let you know that spring has come. I love you, Choi Beomgyu.
Dandelion again, again, again. That damn dandelion. Beomgyu felt a little resentful of Obin. The last time he'd seen a dandelion was when it boasted about landing in the yard and sprouting, and now he was bringing it up again.
I felt a strange sense of defeat towards a mere dandelion that had no scent and was not chosen by bees or butterflies.
“You value something as simple as a dandelion more than me. Leaving behind Choi Beomgyu. Huh? Jeong Ohbin, you’re dead.” ((Beomgyu
Beomgyu got up from the sofa and walked to his room. He was somewhere between the living room and his room when he got a phone call.
Is it Obin? Oh, it's Obin. Beomgyu concluded it was Obin before even checking the caller ID. He turned and headed towards the sofa, frantically grabbing his phone in case the call got disconnected.
“Ah... I’m sorry…” ((Beomgyu
Then, perhaps because he ran too fast, he slammed his knee loudly on the desk in front of the sofa. He was going to get a bruise. Beomgyu rubbed his reddened knee roughly and checked his phone.
Ah... I thought it was Jeong Oh-bin. '' ((Beomgyu
It was a number I didn't recognize, but I sacrificed my knees to find out who was calling, so I answered. Normally, I would have just let it slide.
“Who are you?” ((Beomgyu
“Ah… I’m Inspector Park Ji-hoon from the Se-hu Police Station.’’ ((Ji-hoon
Beomgyu paused for a moment after hearing Jihoon's words. The police are calling me the day after I've been drinking? That's not good. Beomgyu quickly searched his memory, but there was nothing illegal about it.
Are you by any chance Jeong Oh-bin's boyfriend? " ((Ji-hoon
“Oh, that’s right, but what’s wrong?” ((Beomgyu
While I was lost in thought, Jihoon spoke up. He knew Beomgyu as Jung Oh-bin's boyfriend, not Choi Beomgyu. Beomgyu's heart pounded at that. The fact that the police knew Oh-bin wasn't a good sign.
“Mr. Jeong Oh-bin was found dead at his home around 1:10 a.m. yesterday.” ((Ji-hoon